the Rift


Partners in Crime [Hatching]

Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#1

Nestled in the mountainside of the Basin were several caves, one of which had been taken claim by Crowley. It was only big enough to accomodate for two, maybe three, but that was all that the brindle had wanted. Too much bigger and he would feel exposed, like anyone could come barging in at any second. Thanks to its mouth facing westward, it did not experience the morning sun as the rest of Helovia did, allowing the Weaver to catch up on some much needed rest.

But alas, it was never that easy.

The sound was barely noticeable, but it was enough to stir the brindle from his doze. Cocking one ear back and the other forward, he prepared himself to yell at whoever it had been playing around the entryway so early, but was surprised to hear the sound yet again, distinctly behind him. It couldn't have been another herdmate, for it would have been impossible for them to sneak inside unnoticed. There was only one thing it could have been.

Turning himself around, golden eyes landed upon the egg resting in the back of the cave, where it was warmest. It quaked as the creature inside of it struggled to get out, knocking once, twice, against the stony wall of the cave. Crowley remembered the day he had found the darkly colored egg, resting innocently upon the forest floor, quietly awaiting its demise against the cruel forces of nature. He'd been set on leaving it behind, but for some reason, the stallion had eventually gotten it home, seemingly driven to do so by some unforseen force.

There was another great roll from the egg, and suddenly, it happened. It shattered, exposing the creature inside for what it was, and what Crowley saw caused a stir within him. Instead of the usual haughty sneer, a grin played across his features, pleased with what he was seeing. He was looking upon a Hellhound pup, with pelt black as midnight, and markings a color similar to his own eyes. A deep chuckle sounded from the Weaver's throat then, the realization of the event sinking in. Although the pup was weak and frail right now, he would grow into something to be feared; there simply was no doubt. His name would be Talbot, a name he would surely live up to some day.

But for now, there were other matters to worry about, like filling the stomach of the poor thing.



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